


Thy Tongue's Sweet Melody

by sara_wolfe



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, Romance, Safeword Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 15:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19379749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_wolfe/pseuds/sara_wolfe
Summary: Crowley wants Aziraphale to talk to him during sex. Aziraphale misunderstands.





	Thy Tongue's Sweet Melody

**Author's Note:**

> Title and last line taken from Sappho's "In Adoration"

"Tell me what you want," Aziraphale said, murmuring the words into Crowley's neck. 

As Aziraphale was currently working on a particularly sensitive spot, it took Crowley a minute to process the words through the haze of pleasure currently fogging his brain. What did he want? He wanted everything Aziraphale was willing to give him, wanted to give Aziraphale everything he was capable of. He wanted fireworks, and early-morning cuddling, and picnics in the park-

"I can hear you overthinking," Aziraphale teased him, gently. "What do you want? First thing that comes to mind."

"I want you to talk to me," Crowley blurted out, before he could voice any of the sappier alternatives that he'd been thinking about. 

He loved the sound of Aziraphale's voice. They'd spent the last weekend having a quiet couple of days in, and Aziraphale had read him selections from a book of Sappho's poems, and he wanted to recapture the way he'd felt in those moments: loved and cherished. 

"Talk to you, huh?" Aziraphale echoed, a thoughtful note in his voice. "I think I can do that."

Crowley felt a thrill as Aziraphale returned his attention back to that spot on his neck, quiet for a minute as he took time to consider just what he wanted to say. Part of Crowley was hoping for more along the lines of Sappho, or maybe poetry in Aziraphale's own words. He loved books so much, surely there was no limit to his ability to romance-

"You've been a naughty boy."

Crowley blinked in surprise, unsure if he'd actually just heard what he thought he'd heard. "Sorry?"

"You're a bad boy," Aziraphale repeated, voice stronger as he warmed to his theme. "You've been very bad, and you deserve to be punished - what was _that_?"

Crowley snorted out another inelegant sound, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he tried to hold back his laughter. But one look at the dumbfounded expression on Aziraphale's face set him off, and he buried his face in his hands as he shook with barely-suppressed peals of hilarity. 

"Eden!" he gasped out, just in case Aziraphale was thinking of continuing. "Eden!"

"What's wrong?" Aziraphale asked, worriedly, as he immediately sat back on the couch, pulling Crowley up with him. "Crowley, are you all right, did I hurt you?"

"No," Crowley choked out, unable to get more than that out at the moment. Burying his face in Aziraphale's shoulder, he took a few deep breaths to try and regain his composure. Finally, when he felt like he could speak without laughing again: "Angel, no, I'm not hurt."

"You're crying," Aziraphale protested, weakly, and Crowley lifted his head to look at him, to reassure him. 

"Tears of laughter," he said, as he wiped his cheeks dry. "Angel, I'm sorry I scared you, but I just couldn't keep a straight face any longer."

"Was it something I said?" Aziraphale asked, still sounding confused. 

"It was everything you said," Crowley told him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head to take the sting out of his words. "Sweetheart, when I wanted you to talk to me, I didn't mean dirty talk."

Aziraphale went a little red at Crowley's words. "I just assumed-" he started, but Crowley cut him off by laying back down on the couch and pulling Aziraphale down with him. 

"I'm not upset," Crowley said firmly, before Aziraphale could start to get the wrong idea. "Angel, I promise, I'm not. It's just not what I was expecting, and it took me by surprise."

Finally seeing the humor in the situation, Aziraphale chuckled, softly. "What were you hoping I'd say?" he asked, as he stretched out against Crowley, resting his head on Crowley's shoulder. 

"Romance," Crowley said, promptly. "Poetry. I wanted you to whisper sweet nothings in my ear while we necked on the couch like a couple of teenagers."

"That I can definitely do," Aziraphale told him. He stretched up to kiss Crowley, slow and luxurious and making Crowley melt into the couch. "Blest as the immortal gods is he-"


End file.
